Page 63 of Tempest

“Last thing I want anyone to be thinking about tonight is work.”

“I bet. Your last game was brutal,” she says, stepping aside and letting me in. “Odette will be right down; she’s finding me a coat. She didn’t approve of my choice.”

“Occupational hazard, I’d guess.”

“Has she tried to dress you yet?” Britton asks.

“No, but I know she’s helping some of the wags with dresses for an event we have coming up.”

“Sounds like the Odette I know and love. I was worried Seattle would change her too much.”

“You know, I think that all the things that really make her who she is have never changed,” I muse. “She’s still strong, vivacious, fun loving, determined. I can’t see that ever changing. Or her love for fashion.”

Britton stares me down for a few silent moments, the corners of her mouth slowly curling up.

“You’d treat her well, wouldn’t you? If she ever gave you another chance.”

“Like she always deserved,” I say instantly. I’m not surprised Britton knows our history; she’s been staying here with Odette since she got to town. I imagine there has been talk about the men in Ode’s life. I only wish it excluded the stuffy dude.

“Well, may the odds be ever in your favor, or the force be with you, or whatever. You’ll need it.”

“I’m up for it,” I say. “I’m not giving up without a fight.”

“Have you met the other contender? Preston? He’s pretty,” she says, slyly.

“I have,” I confirm. “I’m not worried.”

“No?”

“No. She fell in love with me once. I wasn’t worthy of it then. But I’m not the same person.”

“Neither is she. I’ve never known her to give a man as much of a chance as she has him.”

“Her heart is the same. That hasn’t changed.”

“Quit talking about me,” Odette says, striding into the room looking like she’s going anywhere but a bowling alley. She hands a jacket to Britton, something sparkly and multicolored. It looks straight out of a disco movie. “Here. If the paparazzi gets word of you tonight, at least you’ll look the part.”

“Holy shit, is this what I think it is?”

“Yes, and if you spill beer on it, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“I’m afraid to even try it on. There are only, like, what? Six of these left in existence.”

“Four,” Odette says. “Put the coat on. You may not have been born when it was made, but I think it’s designed for you nonetheless.”

I have no idea what the importance is, but Odette is right, Britton wears it well as she spins around after donning it.

“I need a protective bubble.”

“You’ll have a whole hockey team, it’s sort of the same thing,” I say. Odette finally turns her attention to me.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I greet back, stepping up and kissing her forehead. “You look great.”

“Of course, I do,” she says, playfully acting scandalized at the idea that she doesn’t always.

“Well, let’s go then,” Britton says. “I’m ready to meet these men I’ve been hearing so much about.”

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